


The Catch

by DmitriMolotov



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen, MerMay, Near Drowning, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-27 12:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19013317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DmitriMolotov/pseuds/DmitriMolotov
Summary: “Keep an eye out for sharks,” Geoff said as he passed Jeremy. “They tend to follow the schools and sometimes get into the nets.”Jeremy soon finds he has bigger problems than sharks to contend with.





	The Catch

The tiny fishing trawler bobbed over the building waves like a rubber duck in a bathtub. Dark clouds had been hanging low and heavy with the promise of a storm. Nothing too severe probably, just enough that the fishermen aboard didn’t want to be stuck hauling in a load when it hit. It would be a tight run, but they’d make it. The vessel was barely big enough to be considered commercial, manned by a crew of less than a dozen men and serviced the lonely port of Chieveland as their primary source of seafood, regularly bringing in catches of mackerel, tuna, shrimp and squid.

Today, the tuna were schooling in the open waters and they’d been fortunate enough to be looking, based on nothing more than Geoff’s apparent sense of gut instinct. Though, to be fair, the ship’s captain had been fishing these waters for the better part of two decades and knew the currents well; he may not have been able to say exactly why his gut told him to fish where he did, but it was well known it paid to trust his instincts, even by the rotating crew of fishermen. Deckhands constantly changing on the tiny vessel, mostly due to the location – no one stayed in Chieveland, everyone was waiting for their break out of the town and as soon as they had enough money saved up, they moved on. Jeremy was no different.

Despite an initial trepidation about being out on open water, Jeremy had joined the crew for the steady work and good pay, he knew it could be dangerous, but that wasn’t going to faze him. Once he’d set his mind to something, there was little anyone could do to change it – including Geoff, who’d spent the better part of Jeremy’s first month subtly tormenting him, testing him with challenges of his will and resolve. On more than one occasion he’d sent Jeremy out to inspect the nets or rescue a “man overboard”, but to Jeremy’s credit, he faced each challenge the captain threw at him like a champ. He still wasn’t at ease on the open water by any stretch of the imagination, but he had proven himself a capable and worthy seaman and Geoff had admitted he was proud to have him on the crew.

As the ship crested another wave, Jeremy saw Geoff throw a glance to the approaching storm, then back to the nets dragging behind the trawler. He signalled to bring in the catch.

“Keep an eye out for sharks,” Geoff said as he passed Jeremy. “They tend to follow the schools and sometimes get into the nets.”

Jeremy swallowed and wondered for a moment if he might be teasing him, but Geoff’s face was perfectly blank, void of the mischievous sparkle his eyes took on when he was playing a prank. He shook himself out of it and got to work, keeping an eye on the catch.

Working with practised efficiency, the crew went through the motions of hauling in the nets, watching the water become a mass of white foam under the thrashing of hundreds of fins as they were pulled to the surface. As silvery scales surfaced, a powerful force jarred the winch, making it whine under the strain, before continuing its steady mechanical wind.

Jeremy’s eyes scanned the water carefully as the nets pulled in closer. His heart skipped a beat as he spotted it, the distinctive long arch of the tail fin of a thresher shark.

“Hold it, boys. Hold up!” Jeremy called out. “We got a shark in the nets!”

The winch staggered to a stop.

“God dammit, I had a _feeling_ …” Geoff muttered under his breath.

“What do we do, Geoff?” Jeremy asked, having never experienced a shark in the net situation before.

“They’re always a pain in the ass to get off the boat if we haul it in. It doesn’t look like it’s tangled, but it could be, or at least, it will be soon if we don’t do anything. We could go in and cut it out, but it’s dangerous and we’ll lose a lot of the catch…” he trailed off, scowling. He chewed his lip for a moment in contemplation before letting out a resigned sigh. “Alright, bring it in slow, we’ll deal with it, just be ready.”

Jeremy wasn’t overly fond of the idea of getting a thrashing thresher off the boat, but they were short on options and with the storm rolling in, short on time. His stomach clenched at the thought of it.

The winch ground back into action and the nets drew closer to the boat, the thrashing tail of the shark growing more frantic as the nets closed, fish pressing in closer.

“What’s that?” The startled question came from one of the older fishermen.

Jeremy scanned the water in the direction the man was looking until he caught sight of it. A flash of pink amongst near the tail of the shark. “Wait, what _is_ that?”

As Jeremy squinted, he could just make out what looked like a human hand rising from the turbulent water, grasping at the net, mere feet from the thrashing tail of the thresher.

Geoff was staring hard in the same direction. “Is that a _man_?” Geoff asked, his tone rapidly shifted from curiosity to panic. “Shit! Save him! Get him outta there, now!”

Some of the fishermen stood dumbstruck, staring into the water trying to get a better look. Some of the more experienced grabbed ropes and life preservers, throwing them into the water near where they’d seen the hand. Jeremy didn’t even stop to think twice. Fear of open water be damned, his adrenaline was already pumping, and he picked a spot off the side of the boat, clear of the turbulent water of the nets and drag of the engines, and dove in.

The cold, salty water gripped him immediately as he plunged beneath the surface and his body jerked with the shock, but he braced against it and kicked hard in the direction of the nets. The saltwater stung his eyes as he opened them to try to get a better look at the situation in the nets, but it was packed with fish and foamy water. He could just make out a pinkish body and the slap of the tail of the thresher in the water. He surfaced, spluttered against the spray of choppy water and cut a line in clean freestyle towards the nets.

“Jeremy!” He could just make out Geoff’s voice above the water in his ears. A length of rope landed with a wet ‘thwap’ next to him and he grabbed for it, taking the end and looping it around his arm a few times so it would catch if pulled. It suddenly reminded him he was in open water, miles away from the nearest shoreline and sharing the space with sharks and who knew what other sea life. A pit opened in his stomach and he suddenly recognised his desire to stay firmly within reach of the ship.

More confident with his tether to the boat, Jeremy kicked out again towards the nets, keeping a wary eye on the tail fin as its movements became more desperate and erratic. He couldn’t see any sign of a person above water. He took a deep breath and dove beneath the surface again, using all his strength to propel himself through the water to the net. As he drew closer, he could begin to make out a man’s torso, pressing against the net, hands frantically running along the harsh fibres, as if searching for any holes or faults.

Jeremy reached for the knife he kept in his belt – all Geoff’s crew kept one on hand – Jeremy kept his well-maintained and always sharpened, but it had a serrated edge opposite the blade that would cut through the net more efficiently should he have to. Right now, he suspected he’d have to.

He surfaced again, within reaching distance of the nets now, ever wary of the powerful tail of the shark still whipping through the air. It was larger than he thought, the long arc of the fin several feet long, suggesting the shark beneath the surface would’ve been more of a problem for them on the boat than they’d anticipated.

A hand shot out from the foamy water, grasping at the nets above the surface.

_Right. Bigger problems._

Jeremy took a deep lungful of fresh air and dove again, swimming right up to the nets to free the man. He could see him properly for the first time, though the water was still murky and the man’s face was obscured by a cloud of sandy brown hair. He was angled downward; his legs must have been tangled amidst the fish pressing in against him, it must have disoriented him, his hands seemed to be working to pull him away from the surface instead of towards it. His skin was pale and almost waxy looking, tinged blue-grey from the light filtering through the water, or at least Jeremy hoped that was it – hypothermia and hypoxia were real threats if he’d been in the water for an extended period of time.

As Jeremy gripped the nets, the man startled, looking up to come face to face with him. He had pale blue eyes that seemed to shine even through the turbid water around them. They were wide with fear, but it was as if it was Jeremy he was afraid of, not the fact that he was in a net with a shark underwater in the middle of the ocean. Jeremy instinctively held his hands up in a gesture to show he wasn’t going to hurt him, even though he was holding a sizeable knife in his right hand.

The man pulled back as much as he could, though still crowded against the nets by fish as he was, he could barely move. Jeremy grabbed the net and carefully slid the knife under, starting to cut through the though webbing in sawing motions. The man looked terrified. Jeremy put it down to the fact his lungs must have been burning for oxygen. His own were already starting to ache and he’d surfaced twice since he’d laid eyes on the man in the net. The realisation made him work faster, no longer being as careful with his movements. Jeremy’s knife slipped and cut a shallow gash in the man’s chest. Blood seeped from the wound, forming a cloud around the both of them. Jeremy grimaced in sympathy, but he had to work fast or the man would surely die. It was superficial at best. The man suddenly started thrashing, face contorting in panic at the sight of the blood.

The blood. _The shark._ Maybe it had gotten a hold of him. Jeremy couldn’t see his legs amidst the fish, only the shark close by; too close. It might have him. Jeremy sawed faster and the man finally seemed to understand what he was trying to do. The hole was big enough now for the man to start to start to pull his body through as Jeremy kept working to make it wider.

The man reached out and grabbed at Jeremy’s arm, gripping him firmly and pulling himself free of the net. The rope Jeremy had wrapped around his arm to tether him to the boat slipped free, but his priority was getting the man out safely. Jeremy stopped sawing and slid the knife back into its sheath, grabbing hold of the man and starting to kick to the surface, his lungs now screaming for air after the effort. He tried to pull the man to the surface, but he was met with sudden resistance. He turned to see if the man was still stuck in the net but from the corner of his eye, he just saw the tail fin of the thresher as it swiped him across the face, whipping his head sideways and almost making him lose his grip on the man.

He held tight and felt himself jerked forward, downwards, dragged by the motion of the man. A trail of blood followed them as they were dragged deeper, away from the net – the powerful tail of the thresher nearly swiping him again. The shark had him, had the man, was dragging them both under. Jeremy’s head spun, dizzy with lack of air and the impact. His lungs were burning now, this was it. He was going to have to let him go. Jeremy’s hand slid down the man’s arm, across the smooth skin, reaching his hand and entwining their fingers in a last-ditch effort to hold on. Suddenly, the pulling stopped. In a blink, the man’s face was mere inches from Jeremy’s. For the first time, away from the turbulent, murky water churned up by the schooling fish in the nets, Jeremy could see clearly.

The man was not a man.

He looked like a man from the waist up. From the waist down, where his legs should have been, his body smoothly merged into the tail of the thresher shark, the long arching fin trailing into the water below. Looking closer now, Jeremy could see slices in his skin on the sides of his neck opening and closing rhythmically. Gills. His face was human, but suddenly seemed so alien. His eyes shining bright with intelligence, curiosity. His lips pulled into what could almost have been described as a smile. Jeremy could have sworn the look was gratitude. Surely, he was dreaming; this wasn’t possible. The burning in his lungs and black spots dancing at the corners of his vision sternly reminded him he wasn’t dreaming. Hypoxia-induced hallucinations, maybe, but not a dream. He needed air. He squeezed the man’s- _creature’s-_ hand, and it squeezed firmly back before letting go. Jeremy kicked hard for the surface, feeling woefully inadequate under the column of water that seemed to stretch on forever between him and fresh air. He wouldn’t make it.

Jeremy couldn’t hold his breath anymore. His chest spasmed and he fought to keep from sucking a lungful of salty water as he kicked again to little avail. It seemed to come to him as a fact now: he would die here. An odd pang of sadness overcame him at the thought of having just discovered something fantastical, something the likes of which few people had ever seen, maybe they would never see again. But then, he had rescued it. The creature would live, and something about that was comforting too. His vision started to grow dark and the energy to fight left him as he gave a final kick to the surface.

Strong hands gripped his waist and shoved him upwards, pushed him towards the surface until his face broke the waves above and sweet, salty air filled his lungs again. He coughed and spluttered and floundered in the water.

“Jeremy!” Geoff’s voice called from somewhere further away than it should have been. A life preserver landed with a splash next to him and Jeremy grabbed on as the men started to haul it back to the ship immediately. In a brief moment of lucidity, Jeremy looked around for the creature, but saw nothing above the surface. He ducked his head under the water, almost forgetting to hold his breath, and squinted. He could just make out the tail fin of a thresher shark and a faint trail of blood disappearing into the distance.

~

“You were under a long time. No one blames you for not being able to save him, Jeremy. It was a valiant as fuck effort,” Geoff assured him for the dozenth time as the ship returned to port, just managing to keep ahead of the storm and with a not-unimpressive catch aboard.

Jeremy smiled and shook his head. “But I _did_ save him, Geoff. And he saved me.”

Geoff smiled warmly back, rubbing Jeremy’s shoulder, the way a concerned but loving parent might comfort their kid. “Alright buddy.”

“I know you don’t believe me, but I know what I saw. I will find him again.”

Geoff grinned, the mischievous sparkle back in his eyes. “Now _that_ I believe. And I will do whatever it takes to help you find him.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow and shot him a quizzical look. “…as long as I work for you, right?”

Geoff grinned even wider and slapped him on the back. “As long as you work for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I realised I'd never written anything for MerMay, despite having built a whole AU around it last year conversationally.   
> Ben brought [this beautiful boy to life with art](https://bdgd877.tumblr.com/post/185184318299/the-catch-dmitrimolotov-mermay-inspired-story) and then I was committed to writing it.
> 
> I realise this work lends itself well as a prompt or AU starting point, so please, if you're so inclined, feel free to build on it in any way you'd like.


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